


Cast My Heart Into The Sea

by lame_aries



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, AU!John - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Mer!John, Merman!John, Other, Tragedy, pirate!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lame_aries/pseuds/lame_aries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short chapter -.-</p><p>apologies~</p></blockquote>





	1. Captured

He remembered it so well. How the day began. The icy teal waves rolled over his sandy blonde hair. The comforting liquid kissed his tan skin. The sun glazed over the dark turquoise scaled on his lower body. He had been such a foolish rebellious young merman, for he had gone long ways away from the rest of the merfolk. He decided he would travel all the sea until he would reach land. 

This merman went by the name of John Watson. Ever since a young age he has been a defender of his realm fighting wars against the dark creatures of the sea. He had grown old of staring into the nothingness around his home. Always searching for danger. You could say John Watson thrived for the thrill of dangerous events. 

A shadow ruined his calm and peaceful thoughts. He was quite surprised by this for he was no where near any land. He swam up to touch the fresh breeze. The air was like a blanket wrapping around him with late summer heat. He peered out to what could have made such a shadow. Waved directed him to a great vessel. "A pirates ship," he thought to himself. He swam after the beautiful ship. Up close it was if possible even more marvelous every bit had detail that made it unique. 

Aboard the ship strode a captain wearing all sorts of fabrics of elegance compared to his crew of men. Each seemingly well treated and healthy but hardly anything compared to the captain. It was an odd sight that the captain looked so much younger than the crew of pirates. His skin pale and bright in the sunlight as his hair was as dark as night. His cheekbones would steal the hearts of many woman and a merman for that case. John was amazed by this man, he could watch him for hours walking back and fourth yelling demands at random crew members. John's dark ocean blue eyes stared at the captain's bright eyes. Just a glimpse did the captain get of John wading close to the boat. John hardly noticed he was so starstruck at the handsome young captain. He saw him grab a spear with a rope welded into it, and he wondered what it was for.

Before it was too late John realized how much of a fool he had been. The whole ship fell silent he should have knew then and when the captain stopped walking the ship's deck. 

His shoulder went limp. The water around him turned a dark shade of red. He looked at the captain with a confused pleading look although the that wasn't of John. John was strong, powerful, and controlling. But never has he felt so small before so many eyes of pirates. 

"Bring the beast aboard the ship." The captain ordered. His face showing no emotions. His crew began to tug up on the rope. He was quite heavy for he looked to be quite fit as well as he had a long fish tail on this lower half. 

He was thrown carelessly onto the rather harsh and painful flooring. The sun blazed on John's skin. Dark blood and the sea's water dripped from his body. He felt like he was baking in the sunlight. His skin and scales about to go ablaze at any second. Of course, they were just thoughts. He tried to sit up but the captain put his foot down upon his chest. John began to fight back. He wrapped his hands around the sturdy leg. The gills on his neck were about to burst. Opening and closing. John's mind was racing with wonders of how he could escape and if this was his end. The captains mind was racing as well. He was extremely curious about this creature. The captain snapped his fingers and a two bulkier crew members picked up john. "Find this creature a place to stay. Perhaps a barrel for the time being. We'll reach mainland by morning, so we'll find something more suitable for this ... thing." The captain said staring at John with a cold calm look.

A frail older crew member stepped a bit forward, "Yeah, but, -Uh-, Cap'n, Why don' we just kill 'em. His kin are known for wicked cursed an'–"  
"More reasons why I won't have cut to chunks and wasted." The captain said fiercely.  
A fatter man without an eye spoke up, "then -erm-, cap'n.. why don't we just toss him back into the sea?"  
Sherlock's expression grimaced, "I'm surrounded by fools. The whole lot of you are imbeciles. Get back to work." He the strode off to the captain's quarters.

John was carried below the deck and placed into a rotting barrel. Although the ship appears to be quite majestic, his point of view is now the opposite. The water even had a funk to it. He merely sighed and tried to somehow get comfortable. Which was impossible.


	2. Land Ahoy! (I don't know. Is this too cheesy?)

John did not rest nor would he have even if it wasn't uncomfortable. He stayed at his guard at all times. John came to alert when he heard footsteps walk down the old staircase down to the room he was stored in. John's eyes adjusted in the dark to see who the man was. A light was suddenly formed. It glowed and held John in a gaze. He couldn't move his eyes from the light. It swayed so swiftly on the odd object it was captured in. There seemed to produce a sort of liquid although he has never seen anything like it. "It's called fire. It's on a candle to produce light. I'm sure you've never seen anything like it, sea creature." The voice was of the captain's. John favored that voice over the others. Although he was awful cold towards him. "We'll be reaching mainland in three hours time." The captain said to break the silence. The silence. Oh how the silence was the best character. It spoke in both of their minds. Speaking of words that each the man and creature wanted to say but couldn't find the words. 

"Can you speak? English?" The captain asked. Although he wanted to ask so much more. He feared if he was to open his mouth the questions would flood out like a waterfall.  
The creature nodded.  
This excited the captain, "speak" he demanded.  
There was silence again but it was now pushing all of its force on John.   
"What do you want me to say?" John asked bluntly.  
The captain beamed in the candle light. A grin so wide it sent shivers down John's back. Shivers of excitement and fear.   
"Do you have a name? Where are you from? What is your species? Is there more of you?—" the captain stopped his questions realizing it was not very professional of him. Of course he was a pirate, but he had high standards.  
John gulped.  
"I am called John. My father's name is Watson."  
"John Watson." The captain stated.  
John nodded. "I'm from.. The sea? I-," John cleared his throat, "I'd rather not answer these questions if you don't mind." He said as politely as possible.   
"My name is Sherlock. I'm the captain of this ship." As if it wasn't obvious he was captain. He extended his hand out to John.  
John stared at it.   
"Right." Sherlock murmured realizing how much this John creature had known so little of the human world. "Humans tend to shake hands with one another to greet them." Sherlock explained to the creature held in captivity.   
John listened to every word carefully. Something inside his head wanted to desperately to please this captain. The majority of his head was explaining different ways to escape and or kill the captain and his crew.   
John decided he would let his soft side win. He placed his cold wet hand oh Sherlock's.  
Sherlock thought his hand felt like ice. His hand felt strong yet smooth and soft. Just by this touch sherlock could deduce so much more about him.  
"You've killed with these hands. Yes. You've killed hundreds with these hands. A war? Yes, but you defense. Protecting something. Your land? Precisely. It was a waste of your time. You lost someone." Sherlock squinted his eyes starring deeply into John's bright eyes. "A lover?"   
John jerked his hand away from sherlock. "How would you know any of that?"   
Sherlock simply grinned.  
"We'll be reaching land soon. Be prepared." Sherlock said. He thought to himself about 'John'. Such a simply name, yet he was such an extraordinary character. He almost felt bad for keeping him left in the dark inside a barrel. That would change.

Sherlock stepped up on the deck. He smelled the salty air and a small smile was placed on his lips. The sun began to rise and he returned to his corridors. 

When they reached land sherlock was first off. He directed his crew towards pubs giving them each a few gold coins. He strolled into town. People doing their morning chores either returned inside to their homes or stopped and stared. Sherlock despised people. He went to a rather dark and mysterious shack. The door was just a maroon colored curtain. There was an aged women at desk and behind her was another curtain only a dark blue color. She wore layers of hand dyed clothes. She wore skirts and ribbons having a gypsy aspect to her.  
"Hello, Mrs. Hudson, I'm looking for something in particular–"  
"Sherlock! Look how old you're getting. And still in one piece, might I add. Oh, you just never know what will happen out on sea. You never know when other pirates might attack! Pirates. Oh sherlock, I just don't know why you chose to be a pirate you have so much potential–"  
"That will be enough Mrs. Hudson."  
The elderly woman nodded her head. Her voice was hushed, "so what is it that you're in need of?"  
"I need an aquarium."  
"An aquarium?"  
"Yes, an aquarium," Sherlock confirmed.  
She laughed softly, "perfect timing I just received one this morning. Gold trimmed so big you could fight three people inside!"   
Sherlock grinned, "I'll take it."   
Mrs. Hudson raised an eyebrow. "Very well. What's it for anyways?"  
"Fish." Sherlock said trying to cut the conversation.  
"What kind?"  
"A array of species."  
"Which species?"  
"Ones I'll be doing research and experiments on."  
"Oh sherlock, you should have been a scientist. This day and age we need more with the plague breaking out," mrs. Hudson rambled on as she then went behind the curtain. Two large men carried out the beautiful aquarium. They moved it all the way to his quarters on his ship. He gave them both gold and the amount for the aquarium. He then returned to gather his crew at the pub. He entered the building keeping his head low.  
"Brother. I assumed this was your lousy lot of men."   
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What are you, a British Royal Navy admiral, doing in a pub like this?"  
"I saw your ship and I assumed you would be here."  
Sherlock glared. "You can tell Mummy I won't be home any time soon."   
His brother, Mycroft Holmes, glared back, "that's just it. She's awfully worried. She even gets on my back for even heading out to sea."   
"Oh what a pity. How must you cope?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.  
Mycroft but his lip, "You know she doesn't have much time left. She's been awfully ill."  
Sherlock sighed. Somewhere deep inside did he actually care. How he wanted to reach out to his brother and to be young again. Sherlock just pushed him away, "I'll see what I can do."  
Sherlock gathered his men and returned to the ship.   
He sent a few men to fill up his aquarium and then others to bring John up and place him inside. Sherlock had the same sweet spot for John as John did. He wanted so desperately to please him.


	3. Chapter 3

John was resting while the men came down to fetch him. A younger strong fellow kicked over the barrel in which he was held. "Hey, kid, cap'n says he likes the sea lad, 'magine what he'd do to ya if he saw you treatin' this creature so cruelly." A man who appeared to be in his early thirties said.   
"Yah, whatever, Lestrade." The younger ignorant one said.  
They both picked him up. The young one that John decided he hated held on to his torso firmly and uncomfortably while the one called Lestrade held on gently to his tail.  
"We'll be bringin' ya to the captain's quarters, lad." Lestrade winked at John.   
John produced a small smile to him. 

When they arrived John couldn't believe his eyes. The room itself was magnificent. The room was all displayed with a desk, bookshelves, and trimmings all in mahogany wood. The color of the room was a pale gold that reminded John on the sand. Maps, books, and trinkets lined the room. John noticed a shelf that sent immediate shivers down his spine. Jars filled with dead sea animals as if they were unfinished experiments all deformed and grotesque. There were pinned insects in frames about the room as well. John felt a coolness spread his body and he was back to reality. He was thrown into the tank. It was spacious compared to the barrel. John swam in a small circle to regain his senses. The two men left the room and then it was just John and sherlock, who was sitting in a luxurious chair at his desk facing John. 

It had been a few days a complete silence. The only noise made was when a complaint was made by a crew member or when sherlock left the room.

John felt appreciative of all this yet awkward. He felt so uncomfortable in this room full of odd wonders including a human skull which lies on his desk.   
Sherlock stood up finally from his chair behind his desk and walk towards him. He stood there for a while. John's heart began to race. This was the second time he felt so close to him. The first was when he touched sherlock's hand. Sherlock stared at John and deduced him. Wondering if maybe he should do an experiment on the creature. That thought soon slipped his mind. He would not dare to experiment on a living creature. (Especially one that tugged on his heart.)

"I'm going to teach you the ways of humans and of pirates, John. You'll be staying here with me, so you might as well know the basics of our world." Sherlock said speaking like John was nothing but a mere pet. A new toy for a child.  
John stared at him with a questionable look. It looked like a mixture between horror and sadness. John breathed out a sigh and bubbles rose from his gills, "you mean I won't be able to return home?"   
Sherlock never thought of the question. He didn't realize it was an important thing. Family. Home. Sherlock left that all behind.   
That's just what he'll do with John as well.   
Sherlock made a sour face and turned his back to John. He then began to walk away towards the large stain glass windows.

"Wait." John said.  
Sherlock turned his face to him slightly.  
"If I am going to stay here.. I would like to be fed. I am rather hungry." John muttered as if embarrassed although he shouldn't be.  
Sherlock turned to face him fully. Shocked. How could he forget the simple necessities of life? Sherlock didn't eat very much, but he had his own reasons not to consume foods.  
Sherlock nodded and had a small grin, "of course, John. Anything particular you merfolk eat?" Sherlock questioned. It was such a simple question he hated himself for asking it.  
"I dun'no. Normal food, I guess? I don't want to be a bother–whatever you have I should take." John said rather flustered.   
Sherlock hummed at his response. "I shall have a chef prepare you many meals then." Sherlock said mainly to himself. He would record what he liked for data. Sherlock then left the room.  
John swam about in his tank. Trying to find pleasure in it, but it was so empty and he had nothing to do.   
John swam to the top and rested his arms on the rim. He moved his fingers along the golden trim feeling it's beauty beneath his hand. 

Sherlock walked back into the room rather aggressively. In his hand he clenched a piece of paper. John was curious about this paper. He ducked back down into the water.   
Sherlock sat at his desk and put his feet up. He would unravel and then crumple up the paper. After a matter of time, sherlock sat staring at the paper forgetting John's existence. John peered at Sherlock noting that his face was discolored. It was pink around his nose and eyes and his face was paler than usual. 

" 'cuse me, captain." John said softly.  
Sherlock grumbled his voice hoarse, "what is it?"  
"You seem to be spilling? Are you okay?" John asked tilting his head.  
Spilling? Sherlock questioned what John meant in his mind. He then touched his face and felt warm tears. God, he was crying? He hated himself for this.  
"It's what humans do when we react to certain emotions. a complex secretomotor phenomenon characterized by the shedding of tears from the lacrimal apparatus, without any irritation of the ocular structures." Sherlock went on about the reasonings of crying.  
"So.. What emotional response are you feeling?"  
"Empty."  
"Well, we'll be eating soon, so–"  
"No. A different kind of empty. I lost someone."  
"Can't you find them?"  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
"Because the person is dead."

John shut his mouth. He didn't know how to respond to this. Flashes of death formed in his mind. John cringed at the thoughts.  
"Who died?" John said his voice shushed.

"My mother. She was ill. There was nothing I could do." Sherlock said.

A sudden sting filled inside John's chest as he remembered how he left everyone. Including his mother. He wondered if they missed him or if they were alive and well.

The "chef" walked into the room as well as many others with trays of all different sorts of foods. Mainly meats, different side dishes, and desserts. 

Sherlock ordered everyone to leave once they were done setting up the food on a surface. Sherlock would feed John a spoon or fork full of each dish. He found out John was fond of the seafoods, fried foods, and anything with strawberries. Sherlock could not help but smile watching John's pleased faces and disgusted faces. 

When John couldn't take another bite he huffed a small, "thank you" to the captain. He never did say thanks for anything, and why should he? He was a prisoner, but when he is thought about it at least he wasn't dead or treated harshly.   
Sherlock grinned as if saying 'you're welcome'.  
He ordered a random crewman to pick up the left over food and do what he pleased with it.

Sherlock then sat at his desk and pulled out a bottle of rum. After every drink he let of a small grunt. His eyes seemed to be focused everywhere besides John. Sherlock didn't even realize he was crying or speaking his thoughts about his mother. He was utterly drunk.

John felt concerned for the captain. He didn't like seeing him "cry" and whatever was contained in the bottle was making sherlock act strange. 

Sherlock drank almost six bottles by now. His stomach felt as if it was burning from the alcohol. Sherlock lugged himself over to John's tank. Sherlock glared at John, "bloody fish, my, how you could make a rich man. More than I am now." He grunted, "you're entirely stupid, anyhow. Not worth my time." Sherlock came up with the idea that he would sell his scales because they must be each worth a fortune. Sherlock then dropped on his knees. He felt each sway of the ship as if the ground beneath him suddenly shifted and left him dangling in the air. He ran his hair back with his hands. Sherlock was definitely sick, John could tell that much. 

"Sherlock." John said softly, grabbing the attention of the intoxicated man.  
He stood up on his two feet and pressed his forehead against the glass tank, John did the same. It was the only way John felt he could comfort him. John fell asleep just like that.


	4. Everything will be okay, John

As the weeks grew longer the relationship between the creature and the captain grew as well. John was becoming more healthy than he ever was out on his own. Sherlock was very protective and curious over his captive creature. He felt a sensation every time he would glance up at John while he was working or mapping new directions. Seeing John swim in circles aimlessly or sleeping soundly at the floor of sand brought heat to his cheeks. Guilt lingered in sherlock's mind as well. He hated how lonely and bored he looked most times. 

Sherlock was currently looking at map that was given to him at their most recent stop. Several parts claimed there was hidden treasure but most places appeared to be in the middle of the ocean. Sherlock thought that John could be his hunt dog, he did trust him enough by now. Sherlock sat there and gazed at the beauty of John. He wanted so badly to join him in the water, although sherlock did not know how to swim.

Sherlock walked over to John.  
Every time Sherlock approached John his whole body seemed to flutter. John adored the captain so and never knew what to say. He could hardly say what was on his mind to sherlock.   
"Hello" John greeted him.  
Sherlock felt his body heat, "John, do you trust me?"   
John was confused by this sudden question. It was so straight forward and was so unlike of sherlock.   
"Yes, I do."  
"Can I trust you, John?"  
"Yes, you can."  
Sherlock took off his coats and belts until he was only wearing an oversized white shirt, pants, and boots. Sherlock carefully took off his boots exposing his pale feet. He then pulled off his shirt showing John his chest.   
John could feel his ears and cheeks burning up.   
When sherlock slipped his hands into his pants to take them off, John had to turn his head and look away. A raging blush took over his face.   
"Sorry- I won't -I just thought you trusted me."  
When John heard sherlock say that he wanted to snap back. Was he really trying to guilt Him? Or was he serious?  
"No. I do." John said turning back to sherlock seeing a full nude body of the captain.  
His only thought was what the thing was between his legs.   
Whatever it was, it was adorable. John flicked his tail a bit.  
John didn't realize this whole time his eyes were fixed on that peculiar thing.  
Sherlocks cheeks flushed.   
'He's probably never even seen this before, I shouldn't be overeating' Sherlock told himself.  
John found himself softly laughing which made Sherlock's blush burn harder.  
Sherlock simply sighed, "all male humans have one. It's the male genital organ of higher vertebrates, carrying the duct for the transfer of sperm during copulation. In humans and most other mammals, it consists largely of erectile tissue and serves also for the elimination of urine." He said this in a concealed emotionless fashion. He then lifted himself up and into the tank. The water sent a chill throughout his body. John stared at sherlock. Looking at the muscles in his arms that supported him up to breath. John looked at how shaky his legs were. "Sherlock.. I said I trusted you. You're allowed to enter."   
Sherlock did not say anything.  
"Sherlock.. Do you trust me?"   
Sherlock nodded.  
"You're afraid of the water, huh?" John said softly, "I can help you."  
"I'm not afraid of water, John. Don't be so foolish." Sherlock snapped back.  
John sighed, "place your right hand on my left hand, like we're going to shake hands, alright?"  
Sherlock gave him a confused look, but he felt an emotion he was unaware of. It felt warm and fuzzy. He placed his hand onto John's, and then left the other hand take John's other hand. Sherlock let himself sink down into the water with John. Sherlock shut his eyes and held his breath.  
John stared at sherlock. His dark locks flowing about. His pale body. John thought of beauty and then thought of how easy it would be to kill him and be free. John discarded the thought of death. In this moment sherlock was an angel. A fallen angel. An angel that needed air to breath and didn't know how to swim. Sherlock opened his eyes. They seemed almost brighter. John lifted sherlock up to breath. Giving John a better look at the peculiar thing.   
John the swam up letting sherlock grab the sides once more. "Are you done?" John asked politely.   
Sherlock nodded. He was about to lift himself up, but he stopped. He touched John's shoulder. Feeling his warmth. He then touched his hair. Sherlock bright eyes scanned over John's body. He then reached down to the water, John let his tail float up for his touch.  
Sherlock made a small hum.   
He then lifted himself up out of the water and change back into his attire.

John wondered what was on sherlock's mind. He didn't talk to him for about three day. Sherlock would occasionally glance towards John but never changed his blank expression. John was utterly bored and would tap at the glass listening to how the sound echoed around him. While the taps made the water vibrate the whole ship began to vibrate. With one single touch a burst came through the wall making books fly everywhere. 

Sherlock stood up faster than John has ever seen him move in his life.   
"Sherlock!" John shouted terrified.  
Sherlock never heard such panic in his voice, until he realized John's tank was cracking.   
"CAP'N WE'RE UNDER ATTACK" a crew member shouted as he burst through the door way. Sherlock glanced over at John then back at the crew member.   
"Then why the hell aren't you doing the attack procedure? Round up the men and have the ones assigned to the canons go and have all swords drawn." Sherlock fetched his own weapon. 

"Everything will be alright, John." 

Those words were the last he heard after his hearing and sight were blurred out in a ringing fashion.  
A sharp pain was in his shoulder. He felt his body being carried away. John was confused on weather or not he was dead. 

He was in a shallow pool of water. Only about three inches deep. His heart was racing. The waters color was tinted red. He felt a painful sensation in his tail and his shoulder. Around him were two men. One obviously a captain and the other one his wingman. The captain had long straight black hair tied back in a pony tail the other had straggly blonde hair. The captain had something shark like about him. John hated it.   
"Boss, he's awake."  
"I see that, dimwit."  
"Sorry, boss."

—


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter -.-
> 
> apologies~

"Leave Sebastian."  
"But boss-"  
"Daddy has business to do, Sebby. Why don't you go seduce one of those maidens you begged me to come on board."  
"But boss-"  
"Yes yes. I know. You love me. Just leave, damn it."

The bulky strong man called Sebastian left the dark room that John and the captain were currently in. 

"Sherlock must have taken a real fancy to you. I never would have thought he was into pets."  
"I'm not his pet!" John protested.  
"Hmm" The captain hummed, "Just look at yourself. You were caged and taken care of by him. He seems to not have hurt you, so then what was the point of keeping you around? Not for friendship. Sherlock doesn't have friends. So you must have been his pet. It really is irritating. How ignorant you are, I wonder why sherlock kept you around. Oh that's it! Because you're interesting." He finished with a shark like grin.  
"Who are you?" John asked.  
"That's all you have to say? Really, honey, I am offended." The captain said.  
"I'm Sherlock's worst nightmare. Jim Moriarty,I'm known as the king of the sea."   
John scoffed.  
The captain gave him a questionable look then cut it off with a wicked grin, "why, I suppose I am not the king of the sea knowing the creatures like you exist. I'm sure there really is a king or queen deep down. Just imagine them all in museums.. And just imagine how much money I could make for just one scale."  
John shifted as much as he could in the small amount of water.  
Moriarty pulled a small dagger from underneath his cream colored shirt. His attire, was if in anyway, more elegant than Sherlock's. He moved his hand gracefully along John's tail. Moriarty hummed in an upbeat matter and at the very moment sliced a scale away. 

John hissed. The pain was unbearable. All it was, was just a small unimportant scale. His dark blood oozed out and tinted the water darker. John automatically went into a fight mode. He grabbed up at moriarty's neck, but the captain was a clever man, he sliced at John's hand causing a deep scratch wound. The sea creature couldn't help but let out a painful gasp. John's teal eyes darkened he was to angered to let out a cry. He had no regrets in killing this man, he just needed to find a way to kill him. 

Moriarty sheathed his dagger back inside his shirt. "My my my, you are quite the feisty little beasty," He said in a sing-song voice with a wicked gleam.   
John but gently down on his lip and slightly shook his head. His anger boiled inside of him.  
Moriarty examined the scaled and dismissed it chucking it aside. "Who needs money? I can already get all I want." He said smugly.   
John wanted to punch him in the throat.  
Moriarty picked up John's bleeding hand.

'Damn, his hands are dry, they are like shards of shells' John thought.

John unwilling to look at Moriarty, felt something warm and wet press against his wound. John turned to him and was horrified. Moriarty was tasting John's blood. 

"What the hell are you doing?" John yelled.  
Moriarty only smirked.  
John flipped himself away from captain and left the small pool of water landing hard on the hard wood. The wind was knocked out of him.  
John now being on his back, Moriarty stepped on his lower back with a booted foot.  
John's world blacked out.

 

"You're my pet now."

 

Moriarty replaced his water with new water and made it full at least a good foot or so.

"Aye, boss, why are ya' being so kind to the shit creature?" Sebastian said and spit onto the wood.  
Moriarty mumbled, "If you weren't so blind, Sebastian, it would be obvious."  
Sebastian didn't respond.  
"I'm going to make him fall in love with me."  
"Oi"

—


	6. Chapter 6

—  
The sunlight kissed John's skin. He was caressed in the motherly light. The sand he laid upon was like soft sugar around him. He looked almost as sweet as sugar, so innocent and peaceful.   
"John"   
A familiar voice called out to him.  
He swam in search for this voice. He suddenly found himself in unsettling waters. It was dark and eerie, but the voice was stronger.  
"JOHN"   
He desperately searched in the mucky water.   
Deeper and deeper until he couldn't see his own hands or tail.  
"Who's there?" He tried to scream out to but muck clogged his throat.  
Alas he grabbed hold of a body. He tried to swim free with it but he was stuck.  
He gave up on trying to survive, he let his final breath escape into the body's mouth.

"John" the voice was sherlock. John had saved him. 

 

John woke up in a panic. Desperate to awake to see sherlock at his desk. Only it was no one. He lay in a dark room. He did notice the better treatment, but he was not thankful. 

Footsteps entered the dark room. A flicker of light appeared. It was a candle. He thought of sherlock. He starred at the flame as it danced. More and more flames began to dance on their own candle. The room glowed peacefully. He felt a sudden warmth, but it turned to ice when the man spoke.

"G'morning little pet" Moriarty beamed.  
"I'm am not a pet" John protested immediately.  
"Well, what is your name?"  
John was hesitant to respond to this. He feared the sound of his name spoken by this wicked man.  
"Speak!"  
"John."  
"John?" Moriarty had a wicked grin.  
"Yes?"  
The captain smirked.   
"Hungry, dearest John?"  
He said as he lifted up a tray he had set on the ground while he was lighting the candles.  
The tray consisted of many sweets, small sandwiches, and tea.   
Moriarty poured the tea into a teacup and mixed in a 'sugary' substance.  
"Drink" he commanded as he placed th cup to John's lips.  
John tilted his head back then turned away as the tea touched his tongue which could have been a disaster if Jim Moriarty wasn't as skilled as he is.   
"was it too hot, my dear John?" He asked with a twisted smile.  
"Scorching"  
Moriarty exhaled softly onto the tea.  
"There, there, it should be better."  
John gulped the tea down.

His vision became blurry, but he saw a figure standing in the doorway. 

"I really shouldn't spoil you John–"  
The candles danced flames of hell. He could feel the heat of them as if he was ablaze.   
Moriarty's voice and words all sounded warped at different pitches.  
The room seemed to melt away.  
The taste of sweet spongey cake was in his mouth. He could hardly make out that Moriarty was feeding him.

"Now for my favorite dessert–" he felt something press against his lips. He could hardly focus on anything. His heart was racing. "–I can do anything I please to you, John"

"John" 

The way Moriarty said his name.  
He could hear the other captain's voice linger.  
He felt something warm slide down his cheeks. He's never felt this before.  
Was he spilling? What was the word for that? - oh yes! Crying. Was he crying? God, he couldn't tell anything.

 

He awoke with pains in his neck, cheeks, arms, shoulders, and spine.   
He licked his lips and tasted something so awful. His head stung with a severe ache.

"Boss ain't that passionate to nobody."  
It was Sebastian.  
"What happened?"  
"You seemed to enjoy it, didn't you? What any of us here would do to have him pleasure us the way he did to you."  
"What are you talking about it."  
"I've had enough with you, little fish, why I ought'a get rid of you."

John was disgusted. The captain seduced him? Impossible! That's ... Wrong, John thought. 

John had to make a plan.

"You know.. That's not all that bad of a plan, you could just cast me back out to sea and I'll be free from your hands."  
"I ain't no wuss, fish." Sebastian pulled out a small firearm, "you see, I gotta please m' boss. I gotta make him do what he did to you, but to me. Besides he only did that because he hates sh'rlock."  
John was terrified, but he was in rage, "oh really? Then why was so passionate?" John didn't even know why he was even continuing this argument or what was to happen next. 

There was silence.

Sebastian pointed the gun at John's head.

John's heart began to race.

Sebastian's finger rested on the trigger.

"SEBASTIAN"

Smoke rose from the barrel of the gun.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE DOING, DUMB ASS?" Moriarty shouted.

John had been shot, only in the shoulder, thankfully Moriarty made his shot miss. It didn't mean he was in any less pain.

Moriarty pulled out his dagger and stabbed Sebastian's chest.  
"You idiotic dog."

John was using struggling to use his upper body strength to escape. He made it as far as the hall in which the canons were held. 

"JOHN" Moriarty screeched.

John moved quickly. He aimed a canon towards the wall, before he knew it a blood curdling noise was made from the canon and the wall was diminished. 

 

John was free.


	7. Chapter 7

John woke up with a gasp.  
A sudden emptiness filled inside of him.  
How could it all have been a dream?

His arms, chest, and neck where covered in bruises. He had visions of Jim Moriarty sucking at skin.  
He shivered in disgust. 

Sebastian Moran stepped into the room cleaning up the mess of last night. He then left when he was finished without a single word.

"Helloooo Johnny boy! How did my little pet sleep?" Moriarty exclaimed in a sing song voice entering the room.   
His voice made John want to strangle him.   
"Look at what daddy picked you up." Moriarty said extending his hand to reveal a simple buckle collar.  
"There's no way in hell I would wear that." John snapped back at him.  
A cruel wicked grin formed on moriarty's face. John wished he hadn't said anything.   
"How dare you speak to me like that, you're naughty. And you know what naughty pet's get?"  
John muttered 'nothing' under his breath.  
"A punishment." It was as if a spark of entertainment was set ablaze in the eyes of Moriarty just by the word 'punishment'.

Moriarty pinched at John's cheek pulling him up so Moriarty could apply the collar. John lunged forward and punched Moriarty square in the face. Blood oozed from Jim's nose and yet he kept a smug face.

Moriarty stood up and took off his belt. "Time for punishment."  
He snapped the belt just as it hit John's chest, a cannon was hit at the boat. A commotion of Moriarty's men.   
"Oh how I hate being interrupted." Moriarty pouted. He left John to wade in his own blood.

To John it sounded like an invasion was happening above. He could only distinctively make out curse words and grunts. A sudden movement was heard outside the room he was contained.

The door was busted away.

John made out the familiar faces as crew member's of Sherlock's ship. 

"Oi. We found 'im." One of the crew members exclaimed. 

 

Three days earlier -soon after the invasion, Sherlock's ship-

Sherlock strode across the chaotic ship. His face flushed red with hatred and anger. The image of the shattered tank pierced his brain. 

"There will be war" sherlock spat out.

Sherlock had gone mad for John.

It took a days time to repair the major needs of the ship. Including a tank, although it was not as grand.

"Cap'n? Forgive me'h f'r saying this, but, erm, what if th' crea'ure is dead?"   
Sherlock turned to him, his eyes cold as ice. His silence spoke louder than the words bubbling in his brain. The crewman left him.   
Sherlock made the order of attacking Moriarty's ship. 

 

 

John perked up when he heard the voices.  
A sudden flash of relief melted over his body as if he was truly free.  
Sherlock's crew members lifted him up. They carried him along the dark corridors. They reached a staircase and the men stopped. John heard them whisper an almost inaudible prayer and they continued on.  
John was beginning to feel a lump in his throat. 

The heavy scent of gun powder intoxicated him. John looked blindly around for his captain. 

Behold, the man with the beautiful skin and curls, slicing men with a silver sword. A screeching sound numbed his left ear. The man holding his shoulders was shot, the man holding his tail pulled out his gun and shot aimlessly at Moriarty's crew. A new commotion raised. John scooted his body behind crates. 

He felt light headed, sick to his stomach, his throat and skin were utterly dry. The railing of the ship was just in front of him. One move and he could be freed. Something tugged him to stay. To risk his life just to stay on this ship. To be with the captain. It was so foolish of him.

A gentle touch 

One little touch

John turned his head beside him was the charming face stained slightly with blood.   
"You're okay." Sherlock whispered as if he didn't believe it his digits touching the dryness of John's skin. His mind was racing of possibilities to help his creature in a greedy manner. He wanted to keep him. John was the only good in his dull sea life. Sherlock fell silent.

"You're hurt and your eyes are watering. Why?" John Watson observed and questioned.  
Sherlock wanted to respond but he had to pick the right words.   
"I'll be fine, it is you who is in need of help. John, I want you to understand this.." He swallowed his spit, "John, I have felt a strong attachment over you for the past weeks we've shared. I don't know or want to know what Moriarty has done to you. It sickens me to just think about it. My attachment is unhealthy for someone like me. What I need you to understand is that I will .." Sherlock paused unknowing how word the sentence in his mind. "I will miss you, John."

"But, Sherlock, I'm not going anywhere. I want to stay with you.. I-I .. I think, sherlock, that I like you."

Sherlock smiled sadly.

"A strong like, Sherlock. Since the day I saw you."

"You are a curious one, John."

"Sherlock, I-"

Sherlock kissed John's dry lips. They tasted of salt and sweets. A desirable taste indeed.

John's body turned a shade of pink.

"Where you will go, John, I can not follow."

John remembered that sherlock could not swim.

John ached inside and out. He could see the pain on Sherlock's masculine face. 

"Go" Sherlock whispered and stood.

The move was a very unintelligent one. A shot through his right leg wounded him and made him instantly fall.   
John followed the falling cloak of sherlock off the side of the boat.

And ended into the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably gonna make a different AU after this one. I really hated how I rushed it and how meeeeeeeeh it is. I'm pretty disappointed. I think there may be one or two more chapters. Thanks for pushing through it so far.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Crictism is welcomed! c:


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